


Corpse Party: Another School, Another Shitshow

by Zonerz



Category: Corpse Party (Video Game), Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Oh yeah we got these two fucking messes mixed into ONE, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: AU, Action, Action/Adventure, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Apocalypse, Ayumi's still a vegetable but like she'll get better, Blood, Dark Comedy, Im not sure how to name this AU?, Multi, Mystery, Other, References to Depression, References to Suicide, Satoshi is Hajime AU, Violence, Yoshiki is 17 Ayumi is 17 and Naomi is 16, Yuka is 8 and Satoshi is 15 atm, also fuck the ending of Blood Drive noah fence, also i made some slight alterations to ages and designs just to have things fit together better!!, but Yoshiki and Ayumi are still remembered and here, cuz the Tragedy F, fuck you game I make my own rules, in this thrilling sequel the REAL monsters are PEOPLE and human lust for money and greed, jokes are how I cope so there's plenty thrown in here fuck yeah, thanks Hopes Peak, yeet
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-13
Updated: 2019-11-13
Packaged: 2021-01-29 20:22:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21416125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zonerz/pseuds/Zonerz
Summary: Heavenly Host was worse than hell, there's no other way to say it. Yet even though it's all said and done, it's impact is still being felt throughout the survivor's and the country. Everyone is struggling in the aftermath of this tragedy and desperately looking for some kind of Hope for the future. What a perfect set up for a school like Hope's Peak to bolster their strength and reputation? With a Reserve Course ready to open and a new wave of students desperate for a better future, what could possibly go wrong?Satoshi, a survivor of Heavenly Host, can't imagine anything worse that could happen and is desperate for a new life that Hope's Peak could offer.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 7





	1. "Im going to the store u want anything?" "My innocence" "Yeah Ive got like 12 dollars"

**Author's Note:**

> SO IDK HOW WELL THESE LIKE ARE ACTUALLY MADE? I did my best and solely made these for the hell of it lol, I wasnt planning on fully uploading much but a few people seemed vaguely interested so!!! Might as well!! It's just an idea made for the hell of it and one that's fun to write, plus I love some good old fashioned angst so LMAO
> 
> Hope it's interesting at least!!! 
> 
> Also oh yeah did I mention Id? Die for Yoshiki? And his friendship with Satoshi???? Because I would.

_ “Leaving?!” _ the blonde sitting at his side spits before choking on his drink. His friend awkwardly wavers a hand over his back as he coughs up a storm. He waves his concern off and sets his drink down before staring daggers into his friend’s eyes. “ _ W-What do you mean?? _ You’re yanking my chain. Lying. How do _ you _ expect to just go off on your own?”

“_ ‘Yanking my chain’... _” his friend repeats, chuckling slightly. Messy brown bangs droop further into his eyes as he does so. Tired, dull green eyes shine in the evening sun as he smiles.

“Yeah, that’s what I _ said _ but can we _ please _ focus on what _ you’re _ saying right now? You can’t just drop something like that so vaguely then _ move on _, Satoshi.” The blonde grunts and shifts positions on the warm cement of the school rooftop to more clearly face his best friend. 

This had become a sort of tradition for the two in the last several months. Hell, this spot was where their little group always met up to talk. It was a special place to one of their lost friends, so of course it was sacred to the rest of them. She had good taste too. Over the fence surrounding a majority of Kisaragi’s rooftop lay this one outcropping. It was sturdy of course, but it also had a great view of the school grounds and entrance. Spending hours with each other after school was over became a lifeline for this little group, and today had just been another casual day. Another disgustingly normal day.

A heavy invisible cloud of despair still hung over this city. It’d been months since the Nirvana was finally rid of, but the healing process had only just begun. It’s only natural it’d take some time, I mean, how on Earth are so many people supposed to just come to terms with it all? Ghosts? Curses? Alternate dimensions? And the insurmountable death that practically plagued every family in the country. In the end, all they were able to do was bring more death and destruction to their world. They weren’t even able to save their friends. 

What did they do to deserve this? Why weren’t there any more options? There _ had _ to have been more they could’ve done. More _ he _ could’ve done. He took up the role of leader while they were stuck in Heavenly host the first--and _ every-- _ time around, there must’ve been something more to do. If he had just been a little closer to Ayumi instead of wallowing in his own frustration and depression they _ could’ve--! _

“_ Yo. Earth to Satoshi?” _

A hand clamping down on his shoulder startles Satoshi out of his daze. This had become a horrible habit of his, but one he couldn’t shake for the life of him. Always overthinking. Always a weight on his shoulders. Never able to shake it.

“I-I’m here! Heh, sorry Yoshiki. I didn’t mean to space out on you like that…”

“Heh, you say that every time! Y’know it’s really starting to make me wonder if my voice is _ that bad. _ Is it that ear-grating, Satoshi? Man, and I thought we were brothers…” Yoshiki fake pouts and gets another laugh out of Satoshi who gives his friend a refreshing shove. It was good to see him with a bit of energy. 

Their other friends have long since left, Satoshi’s sister even ditched them but they didn’t mind. It usually ended up with the two of them loitering until it went dark, which grew later and later as the summer quickly approached. This crazy school year was almost said and done. But that was why it was important to bring this up now, and Yoshiki was the person he naturally trusted to tell first. His best friend for as long as Satoshi could possibly remember.

“Didn’t think I’d live to see the end of this school year if I’m being honest.” Satoshi huffs, his tone surprisingly lighthearted for such a depressing sentence. Yoshiki can only stare at him in worry. Satoshi glances at him out of the corner of his eye, his chest tightening at the serious look strewn across his face. Seems that wasn’t a universal feeling. He hesitates, trying to lighten his words, “I-I mean…! With how crazy that school was…!”

Yoshiki shifts and sighs. He purses his lips and nods. “Yeah, I guess I had that thought pass me a _ few _ times throughout it to say the least…” 

Satoshi smiles, relaxing a bit.

“But I know that’s not what you meant.”

Satoshi’s expression drops. Those eyes of his drill into Yoshiki, accusatory. Something’s changed him since Heavenly Host. Then again though, something’s changed _ all _ of them. But the look in Satoshi’s eyes is definitely a notable one. While not a single thing has physically changed, they’re no longer the happy doe eyes he’s grown up with. There’s a newfound fire and intensity there, and even he admits they sure are some scary looking eyes. Regardless, he holds his ground.

“We’ve been through _ hell _ together, Satoshi. And aside from that, you’re my best friend. But I just wish you’d _ talk _ to me more. I-I mean I can _ tell _ this entire this has been _ eating you up! _ Yet… You’re only vague about how you feel. If Naomi or Yuka or someone feels bad it’s just you _ agreeing _ . I mean we practically have group therapy sessions at this point, but all you ever do is support the others and offer, like, explanations or something for _ our _ problems!” He pauses, blinking, “ _ A-And okay that’s definitely not _ ** _bad_ ** _ but listen!” _

A small huff comes out of his friend. Begrudging amusement.

“You’ve _ never _ spoken about how _ you _ are really doing. And I’m _ really _ worried about you. Especially with… With _ this!” _ He gestures vaguely to Satoshi. “ _ Leaving?” _ He shakes his head helplessly, “I just want to understand… I-I…! Hell! I’m stealing what you said to me back in the Nirvana! _ ‘The worst thing that could happen is having someone just disappear with no idea what happened to them.’ _ So, please, _ talk to me…” _

Out of desperation Yoshiki grabs onto his friend’s hand, clasping it in both of his. Steel blue eyes drill into dull green. Satoshi, now visibly nervous, can only stare back for a few seconds. He bites his lip and falls into thought. There’s a long silence on that school rooftop. The wind whipping past Yoshiki’s ears feels near deafening as he waits and strains to hear _ anything _ out of his friend. Finally, there’s a sigh. Heavy, the telltale sign that he won. Lowering their hands Satoshi finally turns back to his friend. His voice is deathly quiet, an attempt to keep it from shaking.

“W-We… We had _ very _ different experiences of Heavenly Host, Yoshiki.” Those eyes again. Serious, filled with despair. It makes Yoshiki’s spine crawl to see and he feels cold all of a sudden. He tightens his grip on his friend’s hand in reassurance. Satoshi nods a bit an acknowledgement. “This… _ Leaving _it’s.. It’s not an easy decision for me either. Don’t think it is. But… I think it’s the only option for me at this point for me to move on. There was too much I saw… Too much I heard… I can’t heal with so many constant reminders of it all.” His voice breaks finally, a few small tears making their way down his cheeks. He uses the sleeve of his free hand to wipe them away as he sniffles.

“It was different for you, huh..? Let’s talk about that first… I wanna understand _ your _ position in all this. It’ll be easier to help that way. So quit putting others first for once, alright?” He lightly kids with a smile and Satoshi nods, a weak smile in return.

“That’s a lot to ask from someone who’s spent the last several months just trying to get all of your asses out of this alive..!” He laughs weakly and Yoshiki chuckles with him. He nods though, and starts. “It’s… Well, it’s just another thing to stack on top of all of the crazy really. I-I’m the only one it happened to, so I-I never knew how to bring it up! Nonetheless how to make it sound actually _ believable… _ ” He huffs bitterly, “Then again, with everything we’ve experienced, it’s not even that crazy to consider.” Green eyes light up as he looks to Yoshiki questioningly, “Do you remember ever feeling any kind of deja-vu while going through Heavenly Host the first time? Despite... _ never _ having been there before..? Recognizing places, people, remains, conversations…?”

Yoshiki nods cautiously, “Yeah… A few times I had a really strong sense of it… I just figured it was the ghosts fucking with us again honestly. Tryna possess us or somethin’.”

“Well… You’re _ partially _ right. It was a result of Sachiko’s curse on us but…” He looks down with a sigh, “It’s… It’s also _ my _ fault.”

“I… I don’t follow.”

“It wasn’t _ just _ deja-vu… We _ were _ reliving all of those things. Again and _ again. _ Over and over. It was all real, and it went that way for what felt like _ weeks… _ Stuck. Trapped. Doomed to repeat until we finally got it right… _ I remember it all. Every single time. And each death only got worse.” _

“Satoshi, what are you talking about? Please, I just need you to be a bit more clear.”

“I-I..!” He sighs, dropping his shoulders. “The very first time we went through Heavenly Host, we actually got _ really close _ to appeasing Sachiko and getting out the right way but… But we were missing some key pieces of the puzzle. I-I… I figured out that we could get back home if we _ just _ did the charm again. So when we all met up again down in the bomb shelter I took charge and led us all into just another _ trap… _ Technically, we _ could _ have gone home that way had we arrived to the Nirvana earlier in it’s life, but we didn’t. Sachiko already punished those who tried it. Instead of sending us 5 back as survivors, we _ all _ were forced to restart the day from the very beginning. It’s an experience burned into my mind. Waking up in my room, thinking it was all just some _ nightmare. _ I-I went through the beginning of the day full of hope, a-and I was so happy to see all of them! To talk with everyone! But… But it started getting odd… Conversations were exactly the same as my dream. Incidents in the halls were exactly the same. Answers to questions. Shifts in the weather. How the announcements were phrased. Every bump, shift, and tick was _ exactly _ the same… Then when Shinozaki suggested to stay late and tell ghost stories I… I can’t even begin to describe how it felt… T-The _ terror… _ The _ shock… _ The absolute _ despair _ when I realized…!” Satoshi suddenly clenches his fists in frustration, stealing his hand back from Yoshiki who can only sit there in shock. The tears quietly begin to flow down his friend’s face as he shakes his head. 

“So.. _ That’s _why you were so distant when we started the charm… A-And how you knew Heavenly Host so well…! I always thought it was odd from you especially. You were always the type to like cheesy shit like friendship charms and bracelets. I remember seeing you so out of it made me nervous. I’m sorry I didn’t listen to my gut.”

“I-It wouldn’t have _ mattered.” _ Satoshi spits out, coughing a bit as he tries getting a grip on himself. 

“Huh? Why…?”

He clears his throat, his voice now hoarse as he bites back more tears. He’s gotta explain, he can cry about it later. “I-I didn’t learn the ins and outs of Heavenly Host by just going through it _ twice _ Yoshiki. I had… I had to repeat that day… God I don't know the exact number anymore... Probably over _twenty times _ to get it right… At.. At least that’s what I counted last… A reset for each time we messed up in _ any _ way. Sometimes I didn’t even know what had happened. I’d just wake up again.”

Now it was Yoshiki’s turn to go silent. He sits up, mouth slightly agape in shock. _Did he hear that right?_ **_Twenty?_**_ That simply can’t be right._ Yet, here his friend was, torn up and breaking. God, no matter what happens this whole thing is just so fucked up. This kid--his _friend_\--didn’t deserve to have seen or experienced any of that! And to feel responsible for it? Cursed to be the only one to remember all of it? He’s not even 16! Yoshiki clenches his jaw and next his fists as he begins to fume. He _knew_ something was wrong! 

“I tried _ everything _ to keep them all alive…” Satoshi mumbles.

His voice snaps Yoshiki back and he’s sitting at attention. Worry sweeps over his face, “Everything…?”

Satoshi nods, blowing out an annoyed sigh as he shoves more tears off of his cheeks. “I destroyed the doll before we even started the ritual 3 or 4 times..? But every time it would just end with me going home and…” He scrunches up his face is disgust. His mouth goes into a hard line as he closes his eyes and sucks in a long breath. 

“And…?” Yoshiki quietly leads him along. Satoshi only averts his eyes. He doesn’t want to tell him something. He probably doesn’t want to burden him with any more of his troubles. It’s always been a problem with him. Yoshiki grips his hands again, speaking calmly. “We’re in this together… It’s okay.”

“There were only two ways to reset the time loop… One was, of course, doing the charm again the _ wrong _ way which happened only _ twice _. The only other way was to… to cease existing.”

“_ Death..?” _ Yoshiki was practically breathless.

“Y-Yeah… Even in the times we never did the charm, Sachiko’s curse still had it’s hold on us. I died either _ at _ home or on the way each time. There were those of us that for some reason _ couldn’t _ die… I think it’s because we were the ones who all did the charm wrong and thus still had our doll pieces in the first place. Our fates were never sealed as long as we had those. But when one of us _ lost _ those, or died… That was it. We were doomed to repeat it. That was the only way the world was on our side.”

“Jesus…” Yoshiki blows out a breath rubbing his forehead. “And the only way out of it was to finally appease that little witch. Knock everything out in one blow.”

“That or give up and just _ die… _ I… If it had just been _ me _ I probably would’ve just given up but, no, I had all of _ you _ guys still stuck in there! And I was the only one who knew what what happening. I couldn’t just _ leave _ you. It didn’t matter how much each reset hurt…” 

“I… Um…”

“What is it?” Satoshi squints at his friend, sniffling a bit and Yoshiki suddenly goes red. He _ had _ a question but it’s not something you just fucking _ ask! _ He was already hurting as is he shouldn’t _ try _ dragging up more memories. But, shit, Satoshi caught him and he knew there was no way he’d let him drop it at this point. So, he sighs.

“Was it true…? About feeling the pain forever? I’m sorry for asking something so insensitive, I know I’m stupid! You can just sock me in the arm when you feel ready for it, it’s totally earned.”

Satoshi huffs and smiles dryly. “_ Honestly _ I didn’t expect anything less from you. But to answer your question. Yeah.. I think so. There were times in between each reset where I would just be in blackness, but the pain was always there. Then after we escaped the first time—before we got rid of the Nirvana—I would have days where I’d wake up with phantom pains. I _ still _ get some of them but they’re way weaker now and only really hurt in the places where I got it _ seriously _ bad.”

“Gotcha.. Gotcha…” Yoshiki replies almost robotically, unable to wrap his mind around it all. 

“_ Heh, yeah, it’s a lot…” _ Satoshi mumbles with a meek smile. Yoshiki could only sit there in dumbfoundment. The look on his friend’s face was more akin to a kid his age admitting to something embarrassing, not sharing the fact that he’s not only been dancing with death but sharing a fucking apartment! The silence sweeps over them once more as each retreat into their own heads. Looking out over the school and their city, they can see the night lights slowly coming on as the sun slowly dips lower and lower into the sky. The yellow light is pleasant, and Yoshiki’s certainly learned to love it more ever since this mess began. Living and appreciating each moment had been something he had taken for granted, but he can’t let himself dwell on it forever. No, they had to look forward and to move forward. They had to be strong.

Yoshiki glances over at Satoshi, once again lost in his own thoughts with that same tired look on his face. The wind was whipping their hair about now as it got stronger in the late evening, but it was more calming now than anything. His mind goes back to what started this conversation, the idea of Satoshi leaving, and looking at him _ now… _ Maybe that truly was the best choice for him after all of this. 

Yoshiki lightly nudges him in the side, making Satoshi jump ever so slightly. He blinks, wide eyed as Yoshiki holds up his hands innocently.

“Don’t worry! I just uh…” Yoshiki rambles then rubs the back of his neck with a shrug, “For _ whatever _ it’s worth, I’m _ really _ fucking proud of you, Satoshi…”

“_ Proud?” _ He almost laughs repeating it but Yoshiki just nods casually yet genuinely.

“You’ve got some _ serious _ willpower to actually make it _ through _ all of that and to keep pushing on and _ trying. _ Trapped in the loop or not I think there’s seriously something to be said about a guy who would fight those horrors again and again just to make sure his friends eventually get home safe. Then you went _ after _ us in the Nirvana. Back into hell even after you went through… _ All of that?” _ He leans back, shaking his head. “You’re one hell of a guy. I’m sorry it came to this though. But even then… I’m glad we have you as a good guy!” He smiles, winking playfully and Satoshi laughs.

“_ Oh please! _ Like I could pull off the scary bad guy shit..! Nah if either of us ended up some maniac, you’d be way better at it.”

“_ What?! _ Is that some kinda backhanded compliment or are ya tryna tell me something?” He playfully smacks his friend in the arm, the two beginning to laugh.

“I’m serious! You got the bleached hair, the ‘delinquent’ rep--though I guess _ I _ don’t really buy it--and the attitude for it.”

“I don’t think I like where this is going!” Yoshiki scoffs and Satoshi snickers. They laugh back into a comfortable silence, the conversation gently dying out. There’s certainly more to say, but getting up the nerve to speak up has always been a challenge. Yoshiki in the meantime simply sighs and picks his drink back up. Eventually, Satoshi clears his throat, finally finding a way to continue the conversation he meant to have.

“I’ve been researching about how the city and country in general has been dealing with all the Nirvana stuff… Seeing what kind of things they’re offering those affected. I’m sure you’ve gotten the e-mails too, right? Among all the other ones begging for interviews and shit.” Satoshi rolls his eyes at the idea and Yoshiki nods. “Well, anyways, I looked into a few I’ve been sent and… They have this offer kind of like a witness protection thing available for us if we _ want… _ I-It sounds kinda crazy, I know, but I’ve…” He trails off, eyes scanning the concrete before them as he thinks. Then he nods, “I’ve really been thinking of taking them up on that offer… Change up who I am so I can live normally for a bit. Just so I can actually focus on _ regular _ life. I-I know it sounds like, _ really really selfish… but um…” _ He rubs his arms nervously.

Yoshiki sits there quietly, considering his words. Looking over at his friend, he can tell this is definitely a choice that’s eating him up. But, he’d be lying if he said it didn’t seem like a good choice. For Satoshi’s sake.

“Have you told anyone else that you’re considering this…?” He quietly prods. Satoshi sighs and shakes his head.

“No. I trust your judgement the most in this situation… Everyone else is gonna be too biased to give me a _ real _ answer. I-I love them! And I’m glad I have them all to ask but…”

“No no, I get it, I get it. Heh, who wouldn’t wanna keep _ you _ around! You’re a catch Satoshi! _ OW--!” _

“Be serious!” Satoshi laughs as he takes his chance to slug Yoshiki in the arm. Yoshiki opens his mouth to ask _ why _ he punched him, then remembers his words from only a few minutes earlier. He visibly loses steam and Satoshi grins.

“_ Okay, okay, that’s fair. I’ll take it.” _ Yoshiki chuckles as he rubs his arm. Damn, he’s gotten a harder hit these days. That’s gonna leave a hell of a bruise. “So, I take it you want advice, eh…?”

“Well, _ yeah. _ This isn’t exactly a simple decision… It’ll really change everything and i-if it ends up just _ hurting _ you guys instead of… I dunno… Making things easier? I mean, I dunno if I’d do it. I just don’t want to inflict any more pain…” He sighs, trailing off. Yoshiki sucks in a large breath. He doesn’t like having to say it, or even thinking about his best friend _ leaving _, but… 

“I think you need to start thinking more about _ yourself, _ Satoshi. You’ve already done _ more _ than enough for all of us, I can’t say I blame you for wanting to make a normal life out of the one you have. And… Yeah, you leaving is gonna be _ hard _ for us… But…” He pauses, choosing his words carefully, “I’d rather have you leave and come back to us later in a better place, than have you leave us _ forever…” _

“Huh?” Satoshi glances over at his friend, paling a bit. Yoshiki doesn’t budge, just stares at him somberly.

“You’ve been burning the candle at both ends Satoshi… You’re worried that if you keep trying to power through this you won’t be able to stand it… Am I right?”

Satoshi stares blankly at his friend with his mouth hanging open slightly. He’s speechless--a clear sign Yoshiki hit the nail on the head. Seeing the split second glint in Yoshiki’s eyes he drops his gaze. Has he really become that easy to read? He only hopes the others haven’t been thinking the same thing and worrying about him. Eventually though he answers Yoshiki’s question with a nod. 

“Heh, can’t hide anything from me buddy…”

“I should’ve figured…” Satoshi smiles bitterly. Yoshiki in turn leans over and pulls his friend into a tight hug. Satoshi quickly clutches to him, the tension that’s been building up finally overwhelming him. He’s shaking, but doing so nearly silently. His knuckles go white, standing out intensely against Yoshiki’s black jacket. He’s relieved to finally have someone else understand, though. Yoshiki’s always been reliable and someone Satoshi’s entrusted with thousands of secrets over the years. “_ Thanks for having my back in this, Yoshiki.” _

_ “Always will.” _


	2. Chillin like a soon to be Villain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Satoshi's time at home is slowly coming to a close, and essentially he and Yoshiki just spend some time being bros before he leaves completely. Final preparation and some final reminders are shared between the two old friends.

_ ‘Easy does it… Easy does it… Don’t let your arm shake  _ ** _now_ ** _ , Satoshi.’ _

The teen bites his lip anxiously as he holds the scissors up to his bangs. He holds his hair out with his other hand as far away from him as he can muster in attempts to make this easier. The blades of the scissors gleam in the harsh cold light of his bathroom. They mock him, sharp as can be. The thought makes his throat go drier than a desert.

He hated this. He truly did. But his hair was just going to become a long mess if he didn’t do something about it, and no way would he be able to trust someone else with scissors so close to him! No, this had to be done, no matter how much his hands shook, no matter how loud his heart thumped. 

He takes in a deep breath, forcing his nerves to settle. A talent picked up from a place he wishes he could wipe from his memory. But whatever, soon he’ll be out of this hell. Soon he’ll be somewhere entirely new, entirely fresh, and soon enough he’ll be someone he can be proud of. Someone strong. Someone who’s  _ confident. _

The thought of what he has in store actually makes his heart leap a little in excitement! The corners of his mouth twitch upwards into a slight smile and he nods to himself. He’s got this! This will be awesome once it’s said and done!

_ “OI! SATOSHI!” _ The door slams open.

“ _ AHH-!” _

_ Snip! _

Satoshi feels his heart freeze up in his throat. He’s ready for it, he expects the pain. But… There’s none…? He moves his hands back, blinking down at them absentmindedly. Huh! Scissors ( _ with no blood!)  _ in one hand, and a bunch of hair in the other. But, wait, why was there hair…? 

He gasps and looks up at the mirror, immediately groaning at the sight. He drops the hair from his hand and uses it to mess with his now horribly butchered bangs. He blows out a very annoyed sigh before perking up at the sound of a stifled laugh from the doorway. There of course stood his best friend--and newfound _ target _ \--Yoshiki Kishinuma. 

Satoshi raises his pair of scissors to point at him.

“ _ Don’t  _ ** _even_ ** _ !” _

“I’m not-- I’m-- _ pfft!-- _ I’m fine it looks…” He bites his lip, his voice shaking as he holds back his laughter. He clears his throat and nods (though he didn’t sound a tick more serious), “ _ It looks fine! It’s… uh… Good!  _ It’s good!”

Satoshi drops his hand and whines. It looks  _ awful. _ And there’s no way he can stand using this pair of metal deathtraps to fix it either. He’s just gonna have to deal with it. He throws the scissors uselessly into the sink and then grips each edge as he stares back at his reflection. He at least looks…  _ Different! _ He looks like a different person save for one strand of hair that’s always hung down over his bangs. But he cut that one too so it’s surprising it hasn’t shifted like--

_ Oh. _ There it went. 

Another stifled laugh from Yoshiki and another loud groan from Satoshi wipe out the tension in the room. The top of his hair now sticks up straight almost like a shark fin. The way it flung upwards was almost like a cartoon, he half expected some sort of  _ Twang! _ To follow it. Satoshi lets out a sigh while his friend comes over to his side in the mirror. Squinting with a scrutinizing gaze, Satoshi can tell he’s being assessed and frankly has lost his desire to argue. If Yoshiki can find something good out of the cut then it’ll probably be fine. 

Yeah…! It’s something new now. He’s gonna be a whole new person and this is a good start. His mood visibly shifts with that thought. 

“Hmm… Yeah, getting a better look at it now, you really could pull off being someone new!” Yoshiki grins and a smile slips onto Satoshi’s face. He quickly yelps though as Yoshiki plucks at the cheek closest to him. “Though you could stand to lose a bit more of that baby fat!”

“ _ Oi! Hands off!” _ Satoshi smacks at his friend’s hand with Yoshiki only laughing in turn.

“HA! Alright, alright! Sorry for ruining your haircut hehe… But finish whatever you’re doing and I’ll be chilling in your room! I got something for you!” Yoshiki grins and Satoshi can’t help the smile as he stares at him questioningly. But his older friend doesn’t budge, just keeps up that mischievous grin as per usual. Satoshi rolls his eyes and grabs a towel.

“Okay okay, now get!” He playfully snaps the towel at Yoshiki who yelps. Satoshi snickers, “I’ll be there in a sec!” With that he bounces back to the mirror and then leans over the sink, ruffling out any loose hairs from his shoddy haircut. Yoshiki nods and leaves him be, meandering through the house he knows so well.

Wandering into the small room that belongs to his friend, it was almost foreign. Instead of the casual mess he’d grown up knowing, things were packed away in neat and tidy piles. A few boxes were already strewn about the room all packed up. Depending on their contents, they’d either go to storage or follow Satoshi along.

Yet something in his gut tells him Satoshi isn’t going to be taking much out of here with him.

The hollow feeling in his chest grows as the reality of this situation settles in. But for once at least it wasn’t the hollow feeling of terror. Simple sadness this time around. He meanders over to the small desk once completely lined with trinkets and photos, now to find it completely empty. Well, save for one framed picture.

Dust dances in the rays of sunlight that stream in through the large window. Moving even slightly in this room feels like kicking up a dust storm. He’s surprised Satoshi was able to even sleep without sneezing to death. But oh well, guess you get used to it. Padding over to the desk, steel blue eyes glance over the figures in the frame. He plucks the photo up to get a closer look, smiling bitterly as he looks over them all.

The 9 of them, before this all happened. Smiling, beaming, simply  _ living. _ He blinks a few times to get the stinging in his eyes to go away, but ah, oh well.

_ “Dammit…” _ He sighs under his breath. He couldn’t help it, none of them could. He should’ve figured he’d see one of these pictures leftover in Satoshi’s room though. He was always sentimental. He wonders though if this photo is gonna be packed away or if he’s going to keep it with him. He can see him doing either at this point to be quite honest, not that he could blame him.

The sound of footsteps quickly approaching shake Yoshiki back to the present. The door to Satoshi’s room is quickly yanked open and Yoshiki’s head snaps up to his friend. He probably looks pretty stupid at the moment. Mouth slightly agape, eyes wide like an absolute deer in the headlights, but he couldn’t help it! The guy in front of him now, it hardly resembled the Satoshi from the photo. Short and spiky hair, a simple baggy sweatshirt hanging from him and striking--did they get greener?--eyes are foreign in every way. Their friends won’t even believe this is the same guy. For some reason he feels bad for hardly changing  _ himself!  _

Satoshi’s eyes flick from Yoshiki’s to the photo in his hands and he quickly gets embarrassed. Yoshiki panics and hurries to clear his throat and in turn sets the photo down probably a  _ bit _ more forcefully than he should have. 

“Sorry! I uhh... Was just thinking and then when you came in--!” He awkwardly waves a hand over his friend before eventually just grinning, “How’s it feel to be a whole new person?”

Satoshi lights up at such words, beaming brighter than he has in ages. He’s  _ really _ excited for this! It’s refreshing to see. He nods quickly.

“It… It feels  _ really _ good, I gotta say.” He tries to hide it, but that bright shine in his eyes and the excitement in his voice was unmistakable. “So! What did you interrupt my haircut for, eh? You seemed  _ pretty _ eager to say the least!”

“Cutting to the chase as  _ always. _ I dunno if I really wanna show you just yet though! Hmm….  _ Should I?” _

“Eugh,” Satoshi rolls his eyes and hurries over to his friend. He snatches his arm and links them, a childish grin on his face, “No way! You ruined my hair so no way in hell you’re getting out of it so quickly!” He laughs and spins his friend around. He doesn’t really have a purpose to it aside from fucking up Yoshiki’s balance. It was something he used to always pull when they were kids. They’re probably making  _ quite _ a ruckus at this point, but boys will be boys. They stumble, laughing with tears brimming in their eyes. Once dizzy enough Satoshi drops onto the bed, Yoshiki dropping less then gracefully onto it right by him. The yelp that escaped his throat is less than flattering, but he knows he’s in safe company.

“You know.. You  _ know,” _ He huffs, pointing at his friend accusingly. “You coulda just  _ asked _ me to fix your hair to pay you back. I don’t mind!”

“No offense, but if  _ anyone _ holds scissors within 10 feet of me I think I’m just gonna have a stroke at this point.”

The pair laugh. Yoshiki slowly begins nodding and purses his lips, squinting as he does so. Yeah, okay, that’s fair. He’ll buy it.

“Shit… Guess I gotta get down to business then!” Yoshiki claps his hands together and sits up once more on the bed. Curious green eyes watch him almost like a hawk as Yoshiki lazily swings his backpack off and onto his lap. He holds up a hand, signalling Satoshi to be patient before unzipping the bag and beginning to dig through it. He begins talking as he does so. “So… I’ve been  _ thinking _ \--”

“Ooooh! How shocking! Congratulations Yoshiki!” The sarcasm drips from Satoshi’s voice as he grins. Yoshiki briefly halts what he’s doing to simply stare daggers into him. His friend just grins.

“ _ As I was saying, _ I’ve been  _ thinking! _ And, shit! I dunno how often we’re gonna be seeing you now, yknow? Yeah yeah, I know, you’ll visit and say ‘hi’ here and there to assure us you’re alive but those are just your  _ manners _ speaking. I know you, and I also know how this whole thing  _ is. _ And with all that in mind,” He pulls out a small wrapped box. White wrapping folded as best as you could expect out of Yoshiki then tied with a nice blue ribbon. “I  _ realized _ that I probably won’t even get to celebrate your 16th with you! That and  _ probably _ a few others… So, I know it’s early, but…” He holds out the box to him with a smile.

His young friend blinks in surprise, hands awkwardly held out to take it but hesitating. Is this really okay? Yoshiki nods and pushes it a bit further his way. His face rests with a soft but genuine smile.

“ _ Happy Birthday, _ ” He meets him in the eyes and nods, “ _ Hajime..” _

His friend feels almost lightheaded at just the simple use of his new name. One he picked out and always wished he had. This was  _ real. _ This was  _ happening! _ He begins to blink in attempt to fight back the silly tears. Yoshiki, grinning as per usual, just continues.

“Hajime Hinata… A man who I know is gonna kick ass out there! Now hurry up and take it, my arm’s getting tired.”

“O-Okay! Okay!” He laughs and takes the small box from Yoshiki and sets it down in his lap. He glances up at his friend, eyebrow cocked but with a smile on his face. Yoshiki simply crosses his arms and shrugs. 

Getting a present from Yoshiki was certainly the last thing he expected. As he turns the box over in his hands he almost begins to feel guilty as he knows just how tight money is for Yoshiki. Especially since he’s helping Ayumi and her family recover. He shouldn’t bring that up though, it’d just be rude. He plucks the blue ribbon and tugs it undone easily. He glances up at Yoshiki here and there as he does but his friend only sits there with that same smirk. He tears open the wrapping paper, the satisfying sound making his inner child light up. The box isn’t anything special and he hurries to tear apart the cardboard.

Inside sits something simple. A little woven bracelet, something you’d see elementary and middle schoolers running around with all up and down their arms. But knowing his friend it was obvious where this came from and how much it meant. Yoshiki for as long as he could remember always had his left arm covered in a barrage of different sized wristbands and bracelets. Hajime picks it up tentatively and admires the simple but thoughtful design. It’s got a chevron pattern to it and a mix of all colors albeit in darker shades. The image of his friend sitting on the floor of his dingy little apartment under some harsh lamp light just to finish this up before he left makes him beam in a bittersweet way. He had such great people he was leaving.

He finally looks up from the gift to his friend. Yoshiki gives a bit of a nervous smile then holds out his left arm, quickly pulling his sleeve back. He shoves all his other bracelets back to reveal a new one identical to the one Hajime has in his hands. Yoshiki begins plucking at his own a bit nervously as he speaks.

“I uhh… Just wanted to get you something special to remind you that you still got people on your side. No matter how hard things get.” Steel blue eyes meet sharp green as he nods seriously. He holds his gaze for a minute before dropping it, growing nervous. “In retrospect though, I guess it’s foolish to have gotten you something that’d just remind you of everything when you’re trying to space yourself from it…! So um…” He rubs the back of his neck, “If you need to leave it behind o-or just don’t wear it that’s fine. I-I get it! I made it kinda without thinking, heh heh…” He laughs awkwardly, trying to salvage what he feels is a huge mess up.

Instead though Hajime quickly begins tying it onto his own wrist; left hand as well. Yoshiki blinks in surprise. Nothing? Not a word? He’s just going for it?

“You uhh… You’re just--”

“Could you help me tie this?” Hajime smiles to his friend, “Im pretty bad at doing it one handed and don’t want it to just slip off.” He offers out his arm to his friend who sits there rather dumbfounded. He stutters, hesitating, until eventually he nods and begins tying it. Hajime continues quietly, “Sorry for kinda dodging your point… I don’t really like thinking too deep about everything, a-and I think… I think this’ll be good to have. I can slip one exception by and keep this as a reminder of all you guys. Of all the  _ good _ I still have in case I find myself slipping or something..!”

“I’m.. I’m  _ glad. _ I’m really glad you’re gonna keep it with you.” Yoshiki smiles before sitting back again, “There you go! Not too tight?”

“Nope! It’s a bit weird having something there but I’m sure I’ll get used to it. You obviously have.” He laughs and Yoshiki grins and shakes his arm full of bracelets. 

“I forget they’re there until they get caught or something! I’m sure you’ll forget yours is there most of the time. But that’s okay. You  _ have _ it and that’s what matters.”

“Like a good luck charm..” Hajime mumbles and he admires it on his wrist. There’s a pause and he freezes for a moment in thought. Eventually he raises his head and looks at Yoshiki suspiciously. “Did you  _ actually _ charm this?”

“W-What?? Don’t be ridiculous…! I-I’m not superstitious with  _ that _ kind of mumbo jumbo--!”

“You  _ did!” _ Hajime bursts out laughing. Yoshiki groans and bites his lip, smacking his friend on the arm.

“ _ Don’t laugh!! You can never be too safe, idiot! I  _ ** _know_ ** _ you!” _

“ _ Okay! Okay! _ I’m not laughing at  _ you!” _ Hajime chuckles with his arms up to protect himself. He pushes Yoshiki’s hands back and down and his grin relaxes into a more genuine smile. He nods in reassurance, “I seriously appreciate it, Yoshiki… Even if the charming is a bit extra, God knows  _ we _ of all people could use a little extra help.” He grins. Yoshiki sighs but smiles, shaking his head.

“You’ve certainly got that one right.” 

The conversation finally dies out after that, but it isn’t awkward. Silence between them hasn’t ever really been that way. Hajime sits there looking over the bracelet in intricate detail, eyes intense and drilling into each colorful seam. Eventually he tugs Yoshiki’s arm over and inspects both of them. Yoshiki doesn’t say anything, it’s not like he really minds. He can only guess what kind of thoughts are going through his friend’s mind. One thought that flits through his mind makes stomach drop. The idea that he’s studying both so intensely to be sure he commits this moment to memory. Or to convince him that it’s real; he’s always got people to come back to. 

After a while Hajime sighs and sits back, freeing Yoshiki’s hand. At that point he honestly hardly notices, too lost in his own thoughts. They share a quick smile and Hajime grabs the torn up paper and box to go throw them out. 

“So, what exactly are your plans so far? Or is that too ‘Top Secret’?” 

Hajime chuckles a bit and shrugs. “Well, we’ve got the family I’m gonna be staying with worked out. It’s this older couple! Not like old and wrinkled but more career focused ones who weren’t able to have kids. They’ve been  _ so _ nice though so far! I’m excited to see how it goes.” He pauses in thought, turning back to Yoshiki before shrugging again, “Right now I’ve been told to think of it more like having a host family. Like if I was going abroad!”

Yoshiki nods in understanding, rubbing his chin a bit. “Well, that’ll certainly be a change of pace.” He grins, “You ready to be the spoiled only child?” He grins and Hajime laughs.

“They’re not gonna  _ spoil _ me!”

“Oh  _ suuuure _ they won’t! Listen, you just have an aura that  _ screams _ ‘My smile will be worth throwing away all your cash’. You are gonna have it  _ nice.” _

“ _ Hush!” _ He picks up a spare book left on his desk and smacks him on the arm. “I’m just planned to go to a simple, regular, high school! Easy! Nothing else…!” His tone hitches a bit at the last part. A simple voice crack of the young man to an untrained ear but to Yoshiki that means he’s  _ got _ something. Hajime randomly flips through the books he happened to pick up as Yoshiki swings around to face him. 

“ _ ‘Nothing else’? _ For  _ sure?” _ He teases lightly, urging him to spill. Hajime snaps the book shut and holds it against his chest, failing to bite back a grin. Yoshiki grips the edge of the bed, now  _ really _ curious as his friend begins to beam. “ _ What is it??? You gotta spill! You can’t just give that look and then leave me in the dark!” _

“ _ Weeeell,  _ I’ve done some research of myself and, while I can’t really do much  _ this _ year, I’ve been seeing some  _ interesting stuff.” _

“About??? Come on, spit it out!”

“You didn’t hear it from  _ me, _ But it  _ seems _ that a certain Hope’s Peak Academy may start allowing regular kids to take an entrance exam to attend!” 

Yoshiki’s jaw drops. Hajime points his book to Yoshiki, striking a pose as he beams.

“ _ But wait! There’s more!” _ He grins and stands up straight, tossing the book around and spinning it to keep his hands busy as he excitedly speaks. “A little birdy told me that I  _ might _ be signing up for future classes there!” He can hardly keep his excitement in check and Yoshiki can easily tell he’s about to start bouncing off the walls. 

His friend sits there slack jawed, slowly raising his hands to run them through his hair in shock. Hajime stands there, bouncing lightly in place with his pent up energy. Yoshiki quickly shoves himself to his feet and grabs his friends shoulders, staring into his eyes.

“ _ You’re going to Hope’s Peak Academy…” _

Hajime tosses the book and lifts his own arms to clamp them down--up? Yoshiki’s a bit taller--on Yoshiki’s shoulders, mirroring him. He bites his lip and nods quickly. He is. That’s the plan. A dream come true for a boy who’s always admired that academy. 

What happens next was a bit incomprehensible for both of them. In their shared excitement the two teens just start bouncing in place in silent excitement and happiness. Then in a split second that little motion turns into a full blown hollering contest. They whoop, yell and scream in pure joy and celebration. How could they not? As the name of the academy suggests, this was Hajime’s hope. This was his future. What shouldn’t he celebrate?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha hoo boy what could possibly go wrong


	3. It would be FINE they said, it would be F U N they said

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who the fuck is this black haired hot topic goth? lol what a weir--oh fuck oh god wait

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IZURU TIME IZURU TIME IZURU TIME IZURU TIME IZ--  
genuinely though I absolutely adored writing all of this and like. idc if its bad or inconsistent at times it was just fun lol so !!! yeet!!!

Winter was a unique time of the year. The added ice--both black and white--and the decreased visibility were certainly a few things that attributed to that. Things were  _ ever so slightly _ less predictable, and that made nights like these  _ interesting,  _ exciting he might even dare to say.

Though such a claim would fade and dim quickly, as all instances of such feeling do. Feeling. Perhaps it was inappropriate to call it that in his case? However, that’s merely based on the assumption that ‘feelings’ are synonymous with ‘emotions’. A feeling doesn’t have to inherently coincide with such a concept. Everyone has instinctual feelings. Instances where something within oneself alerts you to a certain circumstance or situation ahead. The emotion that’s triggered is only a mere response to that feeling. 

The black haired man figures he can accept using the term ‘feeling’ for the moment. Perhaps not aloud, but it’s not like he speaks his true thoughts a lot anyways. He likes to stay unpredictable, too much blabbering can ruin that. Even idiots should know that.

Red eyes scan each house he passes in the late winter haze. He’s looking for one place in particular, though with the mild destruction of the area thanks to the Tragedy, many houses have lost their markers. He blows out a sigh, his breath crystalizing in the cold air before quickly dissipating once more. It wouldn’t stop him, but it’d certainly waste a few more seconds--if not minutes--of his precious time.

There was nobody out save for him. Just as he liked it. He had been “asked” by Junko to go “scope out the damage” to this city. She said it had something to do with despair and him discovering something, and honestly he had tuned her out the moment she got that ridiculous look in her eyes. Plus he had his own things to look into--loose ends and weak links. 

With each footfall the snow lets out a satisfying crunch. There isn’t a huge amount and it seems these sidewalks are at least decently travelled during the day. It’s quite patchy in the middle of the path most of the way down--save for some side streets and private property. The man briefly squints at his surroundings--not even hesitating in his stride. No one’s on his tail yet. Just as he thought. He luckily didn’t stick out  _ too _ much. Perhaps a bit more cleaned up than usual, but these days those traits just marked trustworth ‘good guys’. He wore a clean black suit featuring small red accents. White, clean gloves, slick matching black slacks and perfectly polished shoes, then on top of it all a long and simple black coat. He didn’t truly need the coat that much--he had been conditioned to function perfectly under the toughest of conditions, the cold included. But, as she did with his original suit, Junko insisted he tack on something else. If he garnered some semblance of amusement out of anything, it was Junko’s almost obsessive behavior towards proper fashion. It was her cover talent and she vocally writes it off, but even during her crazed rants she was always straightening shirts or ties on him and Mukuro. 

But regardless, to any passerby at a glance he hardly stands out in the low light. Unless any sharp eyes take note of the black hair and almost glowing red eyes, of course. Yet even then it would hardly be much of a problem. He was a ghost story. A man whose entire existence has either been written away or been apart of mere speculation by those foolish enough to stick their noses in places they don’t belong. Perhaps he could be called a hypocrite though, considering what he’s doing. He reaches into his coat pocket to peek at what he’s found. A simple handcrafted bracelet. Chevron design. Rainbow pattern but the colors are darker, probably even moreso now thanks to the wear and tear of time. It’s frayed and dangerously close to falling apart in some parts as well.

It was interesting. 

This bracelet and the hairpin, the one that belonged to Chiaki Nanami, they were the only two items that had ever elicited a strong emotional response. Thus, they captivated him. Perhaps the treatment was wearing as time slipped by? But that shouldn’t be true as it was a physical procedure, not a mental mind trick. So, the only logical conclusion is that these items and the people tied with them had been incredibly important to him in his past life. Hajime Hinata’s life. 

“Hmp.” He stuffs the fragile band back into his chest pocket. Hajime Hinata. A boring, plain, Reserve Course student. But if his suspicions are correct--as they usually are--then there was more to Hinata than many gave him credit for. His life up to Hope’s Peak had always been suspiciously neat and tidy. No true motivation for his desperate admiration. No cause for wanting a talent so feverishly that he’d fall to despair without it. That is, unless he’s assumed correctly. Then everything truly begins falling into place. And once he’s sound with his conclusions, he can truly wipe the slate clean. No more messy complications.

At least. He hoped. 

The timing of this investigation was…  _ Less _ than desirable. He’s horridly close to the anniversary of the last time these people even saw Hinata. And frankly, something in his gut tells him it’s unlikely he won’t run into at least one of the sentimental saps. A scoff escaped his lips at the thought before a sigh. This was going to be a pain, but he simply needs to bite the bullet now or live with an unfinished investigation.

He found the bracelet in an old storage locker of the Ultimate Neurologist’s old lab. It’s been long since abandoned now--save for looters or people like him and Junko. The remaining Ultimates have already holed up in Hope’s Peak’s old building with the Headmaster’s guidance. Junko and Mukuro will be starting the Killing School Life soon now, which is in part why he’s glad to get this investigating done now. If that plan goes a certain way, then Junko is certainly going to keep him running--she’s even prepped an AI and plan for him to carry out if things go awry. But those were concerns for another time.

He stops and turns toward the discheleved home before him. It’s quite similar to the others, but the warm glow from the flickering streetlight overhead shines down on bits of broken bamboo. That’s the one thing that made this house stand out--the bamboo. Five years back now it had been outfitted with a bamboo wall surrounding the property, as well as a supposed hot spring. Certainly eccentric for such a run of the mill family, though the Niwa corporation  _ had _ been quite active in this area. Something tells him this was their doing.

A small gust of frigid air rushes by, blowing his hair out like inky tendrils in the dark. He momentarily shuts his eyes as the cold bites at his face before he makes his way towards the front door. The gate to the home has long since crumbled and he gracefully steps over the fallen pieces of bamboo and concrete. Avoiding the icy patches he hops up the path to the entranceway of the home. Looking overhead on the small porch, an old light barely glows and sputters, struggling to stay alive. Seems they left their light on in the rush.

The door is locked. The corners of Izuru’s mouth tilt down ever so slightly. He pauses for a moment and closes his eyes, listening. All that fills the air is the quiet sounds of the winter night then his own steady breathing. No one’s here. Perfect. Red eyes flick open as he rams his elbow into the door, slamming it open in one swift motion. The cold air rushes in behind him as the house had miraculously been able to stay somewhat warmer than the outdoors despite it’s dishevelment. He hadn’t taken the time to assess it much from the outside, so perhaps it was just the very top that was in rough shape. Regardless he takes a few steps inside, closing the door behind him. It’s a damn miracle it stayed on its hinges! It won’t last another hit like that. It doesn’t close quite the same but Izuru can’t be bothered with fixing the door on some ghost home.

Moving into the empty home the air is heavy. His chest instinctively feels heavier as he exits the tight hall and enters the living and dining rooms. It was relatively open, though at this point he can’t tell if that was intentional. To his right sat the living room--tight but cozy--then to his left the dining room and kitchen. Something catches in his throat as he takes in all the details of the rooms.

He was correct. This place  _ had _ been important to him long ago. It was an odd experience standing in that house. Something in the back of his mind buzzed and flared, screaming that this had been  _ home,  _ yet the years of training and effects of each invasive operation muffled and dulled those screams until it was like a mere ringing of the ears. There for a second, a mild irritation, then gone again in a flash. A quiet groan escapes the man as he quickly reaches up to rub his temple.

He only needs a second to collect himself then slowly starts moving through the house. It seems that whenever this family left, they did so in quite a rush. Recalling correctly, the Tragedy hit this city hard and fast. It was beautifully orchestrated and executed in contrast to the mindless chaos that the other regions began with. Keen eyes study the floor as he walks for footprints. There’s certainly been quite a few people running through here, but if he had to guess he’d say 3 or 4 people had been here the day they left. 

The dining room is lined with a few wooden shelves and standing cabinets which now display only dusty china. Many valuables have been left behind, but obviously the ones that hadn’t been of real value to the family. Some things even lay broken, knocked or thrown in the feverish attempt to grab what was important. Izuru huffs and moves on, not finding anything that particularly catches his attention right away. The kitchen is even  _ more _ boring. That seemed to be the common pattern here, boring and plain on the surface yet with a web of complexity underneath. But he still needed evidence aside from instinct that he was right on his hunch. Perhaps they left at least one picture lying around? That was certainly something he could use.

With a new, clear goal in mind, Izuru begins moving through the cozy home with a refreshed sense of purpose. Red eyes now sharp and alert, the man strides swiftly from the kitchen back to the hall by which he came in. The sounds of his heels echo ominously with each step as he turns in the small foyer to move up the staircase. The carpet of the floor has worn further away the closer to the top he gets, eventually just showing the wood beneath. 

The upstairs was just as cramped as the downstairs. A small hallway with several doors from one end to the other. He starts right first. At the far end of the hall to his right is the first bedroom--a master bedroom by the looks of it. Opening the door, Izuru lets out a hiss at the rush of cold wind that suddenly hits his face. This room is definitely in the worst shape he’s seen thus far. The wall diagonal to his right simply doesn't exist anymore. It’s crumbled and the ceiling sags in the room. A light layer of snow coats the entire room, thicker of course where there aren’t any walls. It seems this room isn’t going to offer him anything useful aside from a potential escape if things get dicey. Disappointing. Even the bathroom and closet connected don’t seem worth the trouble of walking over the precarious floor. The doors squeak on their hinges as they sway to and fro in the wind. He turns around and re-enters the hall.

The next door to his left is the basic bathroom. He grabs the doorknob and shoves it open. A quick scan of the room showed nothing interesting. Useless. He slams the door shut behind him. He moves further down to the last room in the hall. As he opens the door he’s hit with two things. One, the nice fact that this room doesn’t have a fucking draft, and two, an unreasonable amount of paralysis. There was no emotion paired with it, but he wouldn’t be surprised if some old part of him was screaming at this point. This room must have some kind of significance.

Surprising, since it’s boring as shit. 

White walls. Simple bed. No posters, no photos. Only a brown desk with an old lamp and a few cardboard boxes strewn throughout the room. He forces himself to move further inside, albeit stiffly. He plucks on the string to the old desk lamp and it surprisingly it flickers to life. Batteries miraculously still have a charge. The dim yellow light is a welcome change from the cold moonlight. He blinks a few times as his eyes adjust then steps back to take another look around. A crunching from under his heel catches his attention. Glass? Curiously he glances to the window in the room. Any glass that was once in it has long since been swept away by the wind, nothing even on the bed right by it. He hums to himself as he crouches down for an actual look. 

It’s all very thin with dozens of pieces strewn about. Not from a window but perhaps a picture frame. They’re not all over the floor but in a small trail. Red eyes follow the shimmering bits to beneath the bed. There’s a flicker of a scowl on the man’s face before the emotion disappears once again and he kneels down completely. Glass crunches further beneath his knees and his elbow and he scans the view under the bed.  _ There. _ In the darkness, close to the back, lays a small rectangular shape. Izuru grunts slightly as he awkwardly stretches his arm beneath the bed to grab it. His brows furrow slightly as he feels the now frayed wood of the picture frame in his hand, more glass crunching beneath his thumb as he grips and pulls it out.

A sigh blows out through his nose as he finally stands again. It seems whoever was here last broke it then kicked it under the bed. Probably an emotional outburst.

How pathetic.

He uses his free hand to dust the remaining glass shards off of his pants then rolls his shoulders and neck after crouching down in such an awkward position. He goes to turn over the photo in his hands but suddenly finds himself stopping. His hair stands on end as something in him activates. That’s when he hears it. To his left, on the left wall of the room stood another wooden door. It was shut tight, but he sensed movement. Or, at least, a presence. Yet there was something different about this encounter, something that made his chest tighten and his eye sting. He felt something dangerous behind that door, yet the only sound that filled the room was the whistling of the winter wind. 

Thoughts race through his head.  _ Dangerous. Monster. Pain. Blood. Death. Don’t open. Don’t look. Not real. Not her. Not my sister. Don’t open. Don’t look.  _ Yet none of these thoughts are his own. They’re hazy, more like white noise in the background. He observes them in a way, tilting his head ever so slightly as his gaze naturally falls onto the keyhole leading to the second room. The hissing thoughts get louder. He looks back up. They soften. He takes a step towards the door. They screech. He takes another. They hiss. Now his hand is on the doorknob, and the thoughts are pleading with him desperately, clawing at the back of his mind and begging him to stop. They feel like knives, slowly etching their way into his skull and digging in deep. But he was trained with worse. He twists the doorknob, then speaks.

“I’m entering this room.”

Before even getting the chance to scream in his ears once more, he pulls the door open and enters the other room. Light from the small desk lamp spills into the second bedroom, and a small burst of wind brushes past him as the fleeting heat mixes with the bitter cold air. Those thoughts have disappeared too, like a breath to a flame. Whatever presence he was feeling before has dissipated as well, and now the room is left with only a heavy atmosphere. Before venturing further in, Izuru decides to simply get his confirmation now and flips the photo over. 

There it was, a group photo of 9. The boy he was looking for in particular though stood in the back. A white button up of his uniform, a light blue t-shirt underneath, then grey slacks and messy brown hair in need of a trim. He glances to the eyes in particular. A dull green, almost brown in certain light. Despite the gentle smile he wears in the photo, those eyes are sharp and very  _ very _ familiar. The final nail in the coffin comes when he pulls another small and far more recent photo from his breast pocket. He places it right next to the boy in the photo, quickly beginning to compare the two. There’s only two years difference, and their facial features are near identical. The only drastic changes have come from growing and losing baby fat really. But no, he was right, these two are one in the same. Same face, same experiences, different names. 

A sly smile somehow manages to creep its way onto Kamukura’s face as he holds up and admires the two images in the moonlight. It seems Mr. Hinata had been quite a bit more clever than anyone initially guessed. The pieces of this ridiculous puzzle have settled into place, and the satisfaction is overwhelming. He now had a third name to add onto his record it seemed, which means he could more easily burn both from existence if he so desired. It explains the odd experience he had just before entering this room, as he now had confirmation of his own spiritual affinity and experience. Sure, he had talents that could allow him to sense spiritual presences and such, but there was a unique aura about Heavenly Host survivors. 

With the satisfaction of his detective talent working well, he stuffs Hajime’s photo he stole from his file back in his pocket. He takes a moment to study the group photo though, taking a look at the others. They must be the other Heavenly Host victims. He’s read quite a bit about them while in the area, local heroes in a sense. Quite the pressure to put on a couple of high schoolers, suppose that’s why his past self wanted an out and changed identities. There had been 4 victims. Seiko Shinohara, Yui Shishido, Mayu Suzumoto and Sakutaro Morishige. The remaining survivors eventually came to be known as, well, the Kisaragi Five. Named after the school they attended and were in before they were whisked away. It was truly a fascinating story.

How ironic to escape a repeating hell only to enter a new one.

He huffs dryly at the thought then carelessly tosses the photo aside onto the bed. Now he takes a step back to look at this room. It was noticeably more lived in than the neighboring room, disheveled too. Another reason to believe this place was abandoned in a hurry. He glances to the end of the bed, where several pieces of clothing still hang, now sunbleached on the top. Dresses. This must have been the sister’s room. Yet, interestingly enough there was also clothing of an older girl’s. A familiar uniform had been tossed aside to the floor in favor of something else during packing it seems. Izuru wanders over and cocks a brow as he lifts the top on the tip of his shoe. Yellow and blue with sailor-esque trim around the neck. The same in the photo.

Something however catches his eye, and he quickly crouches down in interest. The student ID is still attached. He carefully undoes the now rusty safety pin and slips the ID off. He flips it over to reveal the owner. The plastic cover of the holding is dirty and a bit hard to read through. Careful hands slip the card out and angle it in the moonlight.

It’s one of the surviving girls. Short brown hair with no real striking features. Dark brown eyes shine back at the red investigating them. This person had been important to Hinata in a different sense of the word. Similar to Chiaki. The name on the card read  _ ‘Naomi Nakashima’ _ . This was her senior year ID.

A gasp from behind him pulls him out of his thoughts. Feminine. He scolds himself briefly for not paying attention to her approach. Though she wasn’t a threat, he didn’t even have to look at her to know that. 

_ “S… Sachi—“  _ She starts, but cuts herself off as Izuru glances back and stands.  _ “—oh.” _ Her voice shakes at the sight of him and she instinctively takes a step back. He towers over her, the only clear thing easily made out in the dark room being his red eyes. 

It becomes a silent standoff quicker than it should have. He hadn’t expected anyone being stupid enough to trail after him, but panic did stupid things to people. If he was going to run into anyone he intended to be the one to run into  _ them. _ He takes in her frame. Tattered old sweater, black sweatpants and dirtied tennis shoes. Familiar brown hair dangles in her face--longer than it should be and looking like quite a mess. So this is what most people have become in the midst of the Tragedy, eh? 

Red eyes glance down to her shaking hands at her potential ‘weapon.’ There are no words for the intense judgement in his eyes once he drags his gaze back up. Getting nervous, the girl presses herself back up against the doorframe, awkwardly shifting the milk carton she holds in her hands. She puffs her cheeks, squares her shoulders and attempts to be as threatening as possible. 

“Is that your attempt at a weapon?” He mumbles, disdain clear despite the monotonous tone. She tenses but then braces herself.

“Y-Yes…! So… So don’t come any  _ closer!” _

“Tch.” The man rolls his eyes. He raises the student ID card. “You look smarter in your picture.” Then with that he tosses the card her way. The girl jumps as it hits her arm. She blinks, unsure if she should take her eyes off this man. He cocks a brow then nods for her to pick it up while he lightly readjusts his suits and gloves. Slowly she crouches down, grabbing her ID card without taking her eyes off of him for a second.

She couldn’t see much detail in the man’s face, as she and the door were blocking most of the lamp’s light at this point. However, she had a nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach that she’s seen him somewhere before. She freezes, wanting to tuck the card away but not being able to without looking away. However, seeing his lack of interest in her, she takes her chances and swiftly looks down to a pocket inside her sweater and stuffs it away. Her movements are frenzied with dark brown eyes stealing hasty glances at the man every few seconds. But nothing happens. He doesn’t do anything.

“Are… You’re not going to hurt me…?”

“No. Do you think I should?”

“No! No I-I don’t I just… I guess I assumed you--…”

“--Weren’t on your side. A fair enough guess. I don’t particularly give off a friendly vibe.”

“So… Who are you?”

“Nobody you need to worry about right now.” He states matter-of-factly before starting towards her. She gasps a bit and closes her eyes tight, only to have him brush right past her through the door. She blinks, then frowns.

“No… No that’s  _ wrong!” _

He stops. She continues.

“What business do you have here? Prying through this house’s stuff?”

“I was curious. No particular reason.”

She stutters, shocked by his bluntness. Does he have no manners? He’d really give her friend a run for his money in the ‘honesty’ department. She huffs, waving a hand around the room, “Did you even know if people still lived here??”

“I had no knowledge of this place before I found it tonight. Besides, I could be asking you the same questions, couldn’t I?”

Naomi feels her words catch in her throat for a moment. She however puts her foot down. “No! I-I lived here! So I have every right to be here.  _ You _ are  _ trespassing!” _

“I  _ am?” _ Sarcasm drips from the man’s voice, the first sign of any personality there. It disappears in an instant as he turns around to face her and she gets her first good look at him. Strong set jaw, intense eyes with sharp lashes, and generally nice looking. Not exactly the face or appearance she was expecting. The warm lamp light creates stark shadows that dance over him. He’s about her age. He continues and she feels cold sweat run down her neck. He’s hardly doing anything other than speaking yet she feels like she’s under a hot lamp in an interrogation room. “Hmm. I recall this being the  _ Mochida _ residence. Not Nakashima.”

“Well you’re wrong.”

“I’m never wrong.” He nearly cuts her off with how quick he responds. “The Niwa corporation made changes to the Mochida house.” He huffs, “ _ Odd _ changes might I add. Regardless, this is the only home in the area with remnants of such changes.” He pauses then shrugs. “The bamboo gave it away. It’s garish for this neighborhood.”

“Wh-- You just said you didn’t know anything about this place!”

“I lied.”

“Wuh--  _ No shit!!” _

He rolls his eyes, “I’m done here.” He readjusts his coat and Naomi’s eyes widen. She suddenly finds herself frozen, unsure of how to act. Her gut is telling her two things, one being that she can’t just let this man slip through her fingers, and the other that letting him leave would be safe. But who is he? Why is his face so familiar? Unable to come to a decision she lets Izuru leave the room. Holding the silly milk carton close she looks around quickly to see what he was messing with. Satoshi’s room seemed fine at least, the poor boy. She moves into Yuka’s room which she had shared with her for a while the sounds of Izuru hurrying down the stairs becoming drowned out as she refocuses on the area around her. 

It was still the same mess they had left it as, and it just sends chills and bad memories up her spine. She scowls, glancing nervously behind her to see if that man was somehow watching her, but finds no one. Letting out a shaky sigh she tosses the stupid carton and releases the tension from her shoulders. Moving into the room and looking over everything, the sounds of panic ring through her ears as if everything were happening once again. Trying to pack everything important to her in her bag, scrambling to help poor Yuka get her things together all while still helping Satoshi’s parents shove everything in their car. It was the least she could do to thank them for letting her stay there. The Future Foundation didn’t act quick enough to protect the city, and could only encourage evacuation of the families that were left. Moving so fast at least kept her preoccupied, Heavenly Host taught her how to be strong for others. Especially for Yuka. She was okay in everyday life without Satoshi, of course missing him as much as the others were and as any little sibling would, but the moment the world started losing it, she became so scared.

_ ‘Are we going to die?’ _ She had asked with those big blue eyes of hers, only 10 and already having dealt with the terror of death far more than any child should have. Naomi made the decision then and there that she’d lay her life down for this girl if she had to. It was only natural. 

‘ _ No Yuka, we’re all going to be okay. And one day we’re going to find your brother too, alright?’ _ She had replied. She wasn’t sure it was true at the time, but by now there was a fire in her to make it reality. Sitting on the sidelines and just waiting for the storm to pass wasn’t going to cut it. She always wanted to be a nurse, and while the future she envisioned wasn’t quite in her grasp, a close enough alternative was available to her in the Future Foundation. She was going to be starting her medical training in a week in their custody, in exchange, they’d keep Yuka and her parents in safety and care for as long as Naomi worked with them. Yoshiki had done the same thing to continue care for Ayumi. They weren’t going down without a fight, just like Heavenly.

‘ _ Satoshi would be proud of us.’ _

The thought bursts into her mind and brings her back to the present. The dank and depressing reality. She sighs and goes back to looking around their room.  _ ‘Where’d you disappear to, Satoshi…?’ _ She finds herself wondering the same thing she’s wondered for years now. She recalls her and Yoshiki’s late night conversations, mumbling fantastical ways he could have escaped this newfound hell of a reality. They always ended up lighthearted, which she thinks is what he would’ve wanted. Of course, that’s not to say he’s  _ dead, _ no, they just… haven’t found him yet. They will. They have to.

She begins to turn away when something flashes out of the corner of her eye from the bed. A light? No, glass of something. Hurrying over she grabs the broken thing and flips it over, shifting the loose glass on the bed and finding the familiar group photo she’s come to cherish. She finds herself a bit disappointed to be quite honest. Of course she loves this picture and seeing her old friends, yes, but she figured that maybe if that man had been looking at this then maybe it’d be… More important? 

Glancing at the frame she remembers when it’s from. One of Yuka’s outbursts in the midst of all the panic. Emotions were running high and she was in pain, she didn’t blame her. She smiles a little bit--now she could take it home and give it back to Yuka as a makeshift Christmas gift. She’d been missing this picture. She smiles and runs her fingers softly over everyone’s faces, cold fingers not bothered by the needle-sharp glass shifting about still in the frame. 

But then something _ burns  _ into her mind. She gasps, feeling the blood freeze in her veins as she drops the photo in a frenzy. Cupping her mouth she tries stifling any noises that come out of her. Within her chest she feels her heart stop, solidify almost, before it start ripping, crumbling and utterly collapsing. That face. Those eyes. She swiftly yanks that photo back up and analyzes it once more, straining her eyes to see.  _ She knew she’s seen that somewhere before. _

She can’t say how long she was frozen like that, thoughts racing through her mind, but she’s ripped out of her thoughts by the sound of crashing downstairs.

~~~~~

Wiping the light trickle of blood from his lip, red eyes drill into the young man before him. He was noticeably more a mess than he, similarly to Naomi. He sports a black and well worn leather jacket with 2 or three shirts layered underneath. The color from the reddish pink undershirt is dull and stained, not to mention generally tattered. Ragged bracelets hang down his left arm. Izuru scoffs at the sight. He at least knows where that damn thing of his came from. Internally he curses, a burning hatred for that bond that makes him hesitate. Hajime was close to this one as well, and that pull is slowing his reflexes. He flicks his eyes down to his now red-spotted glove, huffing as he still tastes the warm iron in his mouth. Fine then, this problem needed to be settled. 

Steel blue eyes watch in a fearful intensity as Izuru huffs and gracefully rises up to full height. He easily rises to 6 feet, perhaps more thanks to the shoe, but  _ lord _ does he seem taller than that. Regardless he’s way too fucking tall for Yoshiki who’d barely grown half an inch since Junior year. Izuru spits blood out of his mouth, visceral gaze not leaving their target for a second, as he begins his march towards the young man. Yoshiki in turn grips the barrel of the empty shotgun, ready to swing again at the man.

And swing he does. With an angered cry and a swift jump forward he strikes with the momentum of his entire body. But he whiffs. How? No matter, he spins on his hell and tries for the opposite direction. He was closer, but that freak bends backwards like a spine doesn’t exist. His movements are uncanny, yet he already knew this asshole could bleed. That was enough for him. The last of his bleach blonde hair hangs in his face, his natural black having grown out and replace it for the most part. 

“Come ON, asshole! Quit fucking dodging everything and play  _ fair!” _ He yells out in aggravation. Izuru’s eyes narrow.

“ _ Fine then. A hit for a hit.” _

What did--

A sharp pain in the young man’s chest knocks the wind out of him and in the next second he feels the table’s edge digs into his back. _Fuck._ _Okay that’s a lot of pain._ He rolls to the side briefly as he gasps, nearly choking to get air back in. How did--? He doesn’t have time to process the kick that just sent him flying, barely managing to roll away as Izuru charges once more. He didn’t need to think, just survive, that’s how it’s always been. Izuru slams his fist down but misses him by a millisecond. The decrepit wooden table crumbles beneath his hand and Yoshiki hears and stifled yell of anger--locked tight behind gritted teeth. He gets it. Instinctively, the young man aims and tries shooting the gun in hand, only to have its clicking mock him.

Cold sweat runs down his neck as he feels those red eyes drill into him. This man is trying to kill him, and he’s wide open to just being slaughtered at this rate! He scrambles up again, stumbling backwards back into the open floor only to have Izuru grab the other end of his gun. A dozen of his own shaky steps backwards Izuru closes in two strides. They moment he grips the other end of the gun Yoshiki feels himself being pulled back into balance, yet panic engulfs him. They lock into a staring contest that makes his stomach turn in a way he hasn’t felt in years. This guy’s freakishly strong, and his own hands are starting to sweat--not a good combo for a game of tug of war.

He feels the other man start trying to shake him off, beginning to push him in circles over the slick wooden floors. But that’s when the tides change again as the sound of frantic footsteps hurry down the stairs and into the hall.

“ _ KISHINUMA!  _ ** _MOCHIDA!_ ** _ STOP IT!” _

_ Mochida? Who is she talking to? Did she find someone? _ But then he notices Izuru’s eyes widen with something instinctive. Both men seemingly seize up at the yelling and both gazes flick to the hallway. Out tumbles a frantic Naomi, eyes watery and photo frame in hand. She gasps to catch her breath and Yoshiki feels panic nearly strangle him.

“ _ Nakashima! Get OUT OF HERE! He’s--” _

But she doesn’t even pay him mind, turning angry brown eyes to those glowing red targets. She hisses.

“ _ What the hell is WRONG with you?! You disappear off the face of the earth for YEARS then just show up and try killing your FRIENDS?!” _ She screams at Izuru, hot tears beginning to rush down her face. She slams the picture frame into the ground in front of him, the remaining glass shattering and shooting out in various directions from the force. Izuru lets go of the gun and leaps back to briefly shield his face. Yoshiki in turn yanks the empty shotgun back and hurries to step in front of Naomi and hold her back. She leans over his arm and continues her fit, “ _ WHY?! Why are you DOING THIS?!” _

“ _ Naomi you need to calm down, this guy isn’t the type you wanna piss off. You’re confused right n--ACK!” _ Yoshiki and Naomi are suddenly shoved to the ground as Izuru sprints past them. “ _ What the--?!” _ Yoshiki barely manages to get a thought out. Naomi gasps, barely managing to sit up in time to watch the man leave. 

“ _ GET DOWN!” _ Yoshiki’s yell rings out in her ears as he yanks her to the ground, shielding her from something. The sound of two gunshots boom through the small house, and squeezing enough out of Yoshiki’s grip Naomi sees the bullet holes in the wall above and behind them. Jerking her head the other way she catches sight of Izuru’s pistol, still perfectly poised and ready to shoot in case either of them try anything. He reaches the door behind him, hardly taking his eyes away for a second except to fiddle with the doorknob. He knows he’s untouchable though, and Naomi glances over to see Yoshiki gritting his teeth as he can only watch.

The two watch idly as he yanks the door open wide and those red eyes glance back for one last look. There’s uncertainty in his eyes, but you wouldn’t be able to guess what he was thinking. The cold moonlight from behind him somewhat masks his features, yet lights a hazy almost-halo behind his head. Oddly enough, the pair feel hope at the sight. But it doesn’t last. His mouth closes into a solid line and he loses the ‘deer in the headlights’ look, trading it out for a glare. He’s dangerous, and that look alone is a damn frightful warning to stay away. After a few moments of getting his silent point across, he turns and slams the door shut behind him, leaving the pair in the still winter silence.

They sit there dumbfounded for who knows how long until Yoshiki suddenly shoves himself onto his feet and darts to the front door. He grabs the handle and momentarily curses at it—stuck tight. After some fiddling and ramming his shoulder into it, the busted thing finally flies open and subsequently off its hinges. Both jump at the loud crash but Yoshiki hurries out and looks around for the man from the porch. But there’s no one. Only the snowstorm.

“...  _ Damn it… Damn it!” _ is all Yoshiki can mutter. He stands there in the gently falling snow, fists clenched and hot breath coming out in thick clouds. There’s nobody, and the fucking acrobat didn’t touch any snow for footprints. Losing the adrenaline rush and feeling the exhaustion kick in he blows out a sigh of frustration and turns around. Slowly he trudges his way back into the house to the nervous Naomi. “Are you okay? He’s got one hell of a shove…”

She nods quietly, still wiping her eyes. Yoshiki sighs and slings the empty gun over his back then crouches down to her level. Naomi takes his subtle offer of comfort and pulls him into a tight hug. She hears Yoshiki let out a heavy sigh, his breath hot against her ear. Taking a second, she lets go and then moves over to the mess of glass behind her. Amidst the mess she carefully plucks out the old photograph and turns it over once more. Yoshiki follows and looks at it from over her shoulder with a frown.

“What… What was that  _ about _ Naomi?”

She stays quiet, eyes boring into the faces of her old friends. She sniffles, wiping her eyes once again. Eyes dark with a newfound dread stare up to her friend. Her voice is low and quiet, and Yoshiki feels his stomach drop.

“ _ We need to talk.” _


End file.
